Green Eyes
by Leola Llewellyn
Summary: Lily Evans has an estranged sister and a father that babbles incessantly to his deceased wife. The wizarding world, amid the war, offers little refuge. Soon she finds hope in the arms of James Potter, and finds herself in his eyes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The little silver bell that hung at the top of the door rang as a customer entered Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor. It was a mother and son, the mother with a distinctive purple handbag and the son with bags full of what were no doubt Hogwarts supplies—one each from Ollivander's wand shop, Madam Malkin's robe boutique, and Flourish and Blotts bookstore. During the last two weeks of August, Diagon Alley was in good business, with Hogwarts students beginning term on September 1st.

"What can I get for you today?" the girl behind the counter asked them. She was a tall, lanky, smiling girl with red hair French braided, and the employee tag on her shirt bore the name Lily.

"I'd like two scoops of pumpkin vanilla on a waffle cone, please," the mother asked. Lily began scooping out of the tub of green and yellow ice cream with her right arm, which by the end of the summer was becoming noticeably more muscular than the left from greater usage. She piled the scoops onto the cone and handed it to the woman, and then asked the boy what he would like.

"Maple walnut please, on a waffle cone," he said shyly.

"Maple walnut is my favorite as well," Lily told him, making the boy smile less timidly. "Are you going to Hogwarts this year?" she asked as she scooped out the ice cream.

"Yes, and it's my first year!" he replied with sudden excitement.

"First year? Congratulations! I see you've gotten your wand already." She paused, and then decided to give him an extra scoop of ice cream.

"I just got it now. Maple and unicorn hair!"

"Maple and unicorn hair? Why, that sounds like a spectacular combination," she handed the cone over the counter to him. "You may indeed have the makings of a great wizard in you."

"You think so?" he asked, eyebrows raised eagerly.

"I do," Lily replied. "That comes to five knuts," she told the boy's mother.

The woman handed Lily the five copper coins, and an extra for a tip, and then the two left the shop with a merry, "good-bye."

"I'll see you at Hogwarts!" Lily told the boy as he left.

Florean Fortescue emerged from the back of the shop, his hands gloved and sticky with ice cream. "You're very good with the customers, you know," he told her.

Lily shrugged. "My mother always said manners and cheer do the trick every time," she said.

The bell rang again, and Lily looked up as two boys that she recognized, and in fact knew rather well, entered the parlor. Both were tall with black hair, but one had hair much more disheveled than the other and wore glasses. They grinned almost identically though; with the same smooth swagger in their step they looked and acted like they could be brothers.

"Back again James, Sirius?" Lily asked them amicably.

"Red-heads and ice cream are powerful incentives," the bespectacled one, James, told her.

"Yes, Mr. Fortescue, she's very good for business," the other, Sirius said.

"Are you getting your school supplies?" Lily asked.

"Not until next week, with Remus and Peter," James said. He grinned, "but don't worry, we'll be sure to come back."

"I'll be expecting you then," Lily said. "Just the usual, boys?"

"Yeah," James said, "but I'll take an extra scoop. Quidditch game tonight, we could use the extra energy."

Lily smiled, shaking her head at him. "Because ice cream is full of energy-boosting carbohydrates," she said sarcastically. She began scooping James's usual order, chocolate marshmallow on a waffle cone, and piled it up with a fourth scoop. For such a skinny boy, he could sure take his ice cream.

"Here you go," she said, handing the cone to him.

"Thank you very much," he replied. "You know Tiger Lily, it seems I only ever get to see you behind the ice cream counter this summer."

"And you see me there quite often. Three times you were in here last week, I believe," Lily said, beginning to scoop Sirius' standard three-scoop dragonberry swirl cone.

"But I keep thinking to myself that I ought to lure you out from behind the ice cream tubs. I haven't seen your bottom half since last June," James said. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could go get dinner somewhere."

Lily sighed and shook her head. "Sorry James, but I've got a robe fitting this evening at Madam Malkin's."

"Pity," James said. "Next time, perhaps?"

"Oh, we'll see," Lily said, shrugging playfully. "Here's your ice cream cone, Sirius."

"Thank you Miss Evans, from the bottom of my heart," Sirius said facetiously.

They didn't leave the store, as the previous customers had, but sat down at the counter. James proceeded to eat his ice cream in long licks that swirled it into a smooth, carefully rounded cone-shaped sculpture, while Sirius attacked his with rather beastly licks and bites that made it into a choppy mess that dripped down the cone.

"So, Lily-pad, you know my favorite flavor, but I've yet to discover yours," James said.

"Well, I'm sure someday you will," Lily replied. "You're a clever boy."

"Hm… I think you're probably strawberry," he guessed.

"A simple subconscious connection between red ice cream and red hair," Lily noted, "but I had rather expected better from you, James."

Sirius laughed openly at him.

"Vanilla then? Very classic and sophisticated."

"Flattering Potter, but no."

"Chocolate marshmallow? That might explain our particular attraction."

"You mean your particular attraction? Wrong again."

"Chocolate chip cookie dough. A bit of spunk very characteristic of you, Lily."

"Oh, just a dungbomb short of a detention. Try again."

"Black raspberry?" Lily shook her head.

"Blueberry?"

"Second choice, actually."

"Almond?"

"No. You've got a few decent abilities, Potter, but guessing is not one of them. Try again next time."

James looked at her slyly. "If I guess your favorite flavor, Lily, will you go out to dinner with me?"

Lily laughed. "Nice try."

"Come on, Lily, give a guy a break! Please?" This time he tried appealing to sympathy, feigning innocence with wide eyes and a protruding bottom lip.

Lily considered for a moment. "Perhaps," she said, "if you're very good."

* * *

At seven o'clock Lily's shift ended, and with purse full of coins from her week's paycheck she was off to the other side of Diagon Alley to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"I need three sets of black school robes and a set of dress robes as well," she told Madam Malkin as the seamstress took her measurements.

"All right, I'll get those for you. Thirty-four, twenty-four, thirty-four, my goodness, you've got a lovely figure, my dear. And five feet eight inches tall!"

"Why, that's… that's very flattering of you to say," Lily replied awkwardly.

It was the first time that Lily had any substantial amount of money to spend on her robes for the year. In fact, she had never been to Madam Malkin's before. In the past, she had bought the cheaper secondhand robes and pinched her knuts for enough money to buy her school supplies. She was strangely anxious and excited about spending so much money at once.

"Here are three sets of standard school robes," Madame Malkin said, showing Lily three hangers full of robes. "You can have them with silk lining, if you'd like."

Lily hesitated. "No… I mustn't," she said.

"Very well. As for the dress robes, I've a variety of styles that would be flattering, especially with your body," the older witch said. She regarded Lily intently for a moment, and then said, "I think a pale green would be very fitting for you. It would bring out your eyes very well. A light golden shade would be quite attractive as well, to bring out the pale, porcelain quality of your skin."

"Oh… okay," Lily said, as Madam Malkin disappeared into the back of the boutique for her stores of robes.

Madam Malkin emerged with an arm's load of gowns, which she laid over an armchair. "Here dear, try this one on," she said, handing Lily a green bundle of silk and taffeta.

Lily did not like it. In fact, she did not like the next three dresses that Madam Malkin gave her. With each one, the image reflected in the triple full-length mirrors in front of her was not at all like the Lily she knew herself to be—she looked overly glamorous, very awkward, and a bit suppressed in the heavy, swishing skirts. The pile grew smaller and smaller, and by the time they reached the last dress, she was beginning to lose hope.

But this dress was different. "I think you'll like this one, dear. It hasn't any taffeta," Madam Malkin told her. Lily pulled it over her head, and then held her braid aside as Madam Malkin tied it up the back.

The reflection in the mirror was astounding. Lily regarded herself silently for a moment, and then said softly, "I…I have curves."

Madam Malkin laughed. "Of course you do, love! You've only been hiding them in poorly-fitting robes, I'm sure!" She pulled on the back of the dress. "I could take this in at the back to fit your waist better. Goddess you've a small waist."

Despite this slight imperfection, Lily immediately adored the dress robe. It was light golden and entirely silk. The skirt was long and freely flowing, unobstructed by layers of taffeta or hoop skirts, so that when she spun it fanned out and rippled gracefully. There was a small, swirling design in violet embroidery on the hips, chest, and sleeves, an elegant embellishment. The neck was very low and left her shoulders bare, and the sleeves clung to her elbows before fanning out to be wide and flowing halfway to her wrist.

"I love it," Lily said breathlessly.

Madam Malkin too took a moment to admire it. "It suits your coloring wonderfully," she said. "Your eyes, why, I've never seen such green eyes. It's simply stunning."

Lily was euphoric. The dress was not the most expensive in the boutique, nor was it the most elaborate, but to a girl who had never bought herself anything costly or beautiful, it was thrilling.

After changing out of it, she asked. "How much will this all cost?"

"Let me see," Madam Malkin said. "Twenty galleons each for the robes, and fifty for the dress robe. That comes to one hundred and ten galleons."

Lily stopped. She did not have that much. "I…" she paused. How could she have been so naïve to think that the sixty two galleons she had earned would buy a year's worth of robes? She suddenly felt belittled, ashamed.

"You don't have enough galleons?" Madam Malkin asked kindly.

"Can I buy the black robes today, and come back next week for the dress robe?" Lily asked timorously, her cheeks becoming warm with embarrassment.

"Of course you can, dear," Madam Malkin replied.

"You'll save it for me?" Lily asked.

"I will. Just come back next week and it'll be waiting. I'll mark it as taken."

* * *

Having passed her Apparition test the month before, Lily apparated from Diagon Alley to her own front door.

"Hello," she said as she entered through the front door of her house. In the kitchen, her sister Petunia was fixing her father's lunch for the next day. In the parlor, Mr. Evans was sitting on the couch with a glass of wine.

The most remarkable thing about the parlor was the portrait on the wall above the hearth. It was of a woman, looking out towards the far corner of the room with fair, wistful blue eyes. She was not smiling, rather, her face was relaxed and unposed as if she were simply thinking of something pleasant. Around her neck she wore a golden-toned amber pendant.

She was the late Mrs. Aine Evans. Her hair was the deep red hair that Lily had inherited, and her round Irish face was Lily's as well. Her freckles belonged only to Petunia.

"Good evening, dad," Lily greeted her father with a kiss. "Good evening, Petunia," she called into the kitchen.

"You weren't here for dinner," Petunia said, emerging from the kitchen with an apron on. She was two years older than Lily, and her hair was black a frizzed, pieces of it falling out of its ponytail by the end of the way. If Lily was lanky, Petunia was lankier, with twiggish limbs and awkwardly large hands and feet.

"I had to buy my school robes," Lily said. "I'm sure I had mentioned it before."

"I'm sure you didn't," Petunia said, "and it was your night to make dinner."

"Well, thank you anyway for doing it for me," Lily replied. "I'm famished. Is there any left?"

"As you weren't here, I only made enough for two." Petunia had done this purposely out of annoyance, Lily knew. She was prone to passive aggression.

Lily turned back to her father. "Dad, how was your day?" she asked him, taking a seat on the couch next to him.

Mr. Evans lowered the wine glass from his mouth. He was a fragile-looking man, his face pale and papery, devoid of any real lines or wrinkles that would give it depth, and his eyes a distant gray. "Oh," he said, noticing Lily at his side. He was like a man just awoken from a dream; he was prone to reveries these days. "It—it was very good. I graded term papers." He was a history teacher at one of the Surrey high schools, and during the summers he taught at a community college in the area. Sometimes, Lily thought, he seemed more focused on the past than the present.

"Were they good papers?" Lily asked.

"Yes, there was one on the Glorious Revolution, and another on Guy Fawkes' revolt," he emptied his wine glass and went into the kitchen to refill it. "The best one so far has been on the role of tea in catalyzing the loss of the American colonies."

"An eccentric topic," Lily commented.

"Oh, Lily, one of those bloody birds came for you today," Petunia said bitterly from the kitchen.

"An owl? Do you have the letter?" Lily asked, suddenly very interested. It was certainly her list of books and supplies for the upcoming year at Hogwarts.

Petunia merely tossed the manila envelope over to Lily, who opened it up eagerly. There were three papers inside. The first was the usual notice of the Hogwarts Express departure on September 1st, the second was the list of required spellbooks and supplies, (Lily did not immediately read these entirely) and the third was what Lily had been most anxious about. She unfolded it quickly and began reading Professor McGonagall's neat handwriting:

_Dear Miss Evans,_

_It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been selected as Head Girl for the upcoming school year. High academic achievement and extra-curricular involvement have merited this honor. Your badge is enclosed with this letter and it is required that you wear it on the Hogwarts Express to the school and throughout the year. Your duties will be explained more thoroughly upon arrival at Hogwarts and include patrolling the corridors at night and making a speech at the end of the year Graduation ceremony. Congratulations, and enjoy the remainder of your summer holidays._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Lily looked up from the letter. "Dad! Petunia! I've got wonderful news!" she exclaimed. "I've been made Head Girl!"

There was no response. Petunia had never showed very much concern for anything that had to do with Lily's wizarding life, and Mr. Evans had fallen into whatever reverie he had been in before Lily had come home. Halfway through his current glass of wine, he was babbling softly to the portrait on the wall.

"Aine, we need a new tablecloth," he said. "The one we have is stained with black tea and red wine… red wine everywhere…I know, I didn't mean to, it just slipped from my hand, you mustn't be angry with me, dear…no, you're right, I knew you wouldn't be, you've always been kind…but why are you sad? Darling, I know it isn't the tablecloth… No, don't lie to me again Aine… I can see it, I've always seen it. You've always been sad… deep down inside… even though you try to hide it from me and the girls…let me help you…I love you…"

Lily sighed and stood up. "Goodnight, daddy," she said quietly, kissing him again on the cheek before slowly, halfheartedly ascending the stairs to her bedroom.

* * *

Author's Note: Thus ends chapter one. Review if you'd like. And just a sidenote, "Aine" is pronounced "An-yuh." It's the Irish form of Anne. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Lily-pad, don't you ever get any time off?"

"I was under the impression that you enjoyed seeing me here," Lily replied. James Potter was again in Florean Fortescue's, sitting at the counter and licking at his ice cream. He had gotten a sundae today, perhaps because without having to worry about the ice cream dripping over the sides of the cone, he could eat it more slowly and lavish the time to talk to Lily.

"More than beating Slytherin at Quidditch on a bright, sunny day," James said. He was probably exaggerating, Lily thought. "But don't you ever get sick of working?"

"Some of us have to work for a living," Lily said. She was scooping out ice cream for a few soon-to-be fifth years as she talked to him.

"Hey, I work hard!" James said defensively. "Just last night I was up until midnight writing an essay for old Slughorn."

"An essay which I finished during the first fortnight of the summer, along with all my other assignments," Lily said smugly, handing a cone over the counter.

"Well," it seemed as if James were grasping for straws now, "I'm Head Boy."

"Woah, congrats, man!" one of the fifth-year boys exclaimed.

Lily stopped mid-scoop. "You—you're Head Boy?" she asked.

James was examining his fingernails now. "Top OWL scores in the year, I think, Captain of the Quidditch Team, and top Transfiguration student six years and running. Not a shabby choice, huh?"

"Oh, but a very modest one," Lily said sarcastically, topping off a waffle cone. "What of your everyday misdemeanors? The Head Boy can't be levicorpusing people into the air for recreation."

"Oh, I can restrain myself, I'm sure, for the chance to spend evenings patrolling the halls with the lovely Lily Evans," James replied.

"That'll be ten knuts," Lily told the kids. "Come back again!"

"You are Head Girl, aren't you?" James asked.

"Of course I am!" Lily exclaimed. "If Professor McGonagall picked a delinquent like you for Head Boy, you can be sure she picked a level-headed academic like me for Head Girl to keep him in check."

"True," James said. He went quiet for a moment, and had a sudden idea. "Have some ice cream with me, Lily."

Lily laughed. "Nice try, but you'll have to work harder than that to guess my favorite flavor."

"Toffee praline?"

"Disgusting."

"Cotton candy watermelon?"

"Far too sweet."

"Bananaberry mango?"

"You're starting to run low on choices, Potter. Better luck next time."

* * *

The summer was ending. Lily was glad for it, and began packing her suitcase early for the return trip to Hogwarts. The last two weeks seemed to take two years.

She spent her days working at the ice cream parlor. Most days James came in, and the days that he didn't, she found herself a bit disappointed. In the evenings, she went home and had dinner with her father and her sister, then went upstairs to pass the time studying, as her father talked to that old portrait late into the night. Some mornings James would write letters to her that she saved in her dresser drawer but never replied to.

_Dear Lily_

_It's a windy day and I'm thinking of you. I know how you love windy days, how when the wind comes to Hogwarts you go take a long walk outside by yourself and let the wind rush through your hair, and sometimes you sing too. Most girls complain about the wind tangling their hair, but I know you're different. That's what I like about you Lily, that and much more. You'd probably love flying, the wind never stops up on a broomstick. I wonder why you never played Quidditch. _

_It makes me smile to think of you, smiling and singing in the wind. I want to see you again, Lily, not just behind the ice cream counter. The wind doesn't reach you there._

_Sincerely_

_James_

_Dear Lily,_

_I had a dream about you last night, and I woke up grinning like a lunatic. Sirius thinks I should go see a shrink._

_Sincerely_

_James_

_Dear Lily,_

_I really think we should go out. Now that we're Head Boy and Head Girl, it's only natural. I'm not such a prick anymore, and I'm probably the only guy at Hogwarts you'll find that's as attractive as you are. And I'm entirely infatuated with you. I want to take you out places and hold your hand and kiss you all the time…and Sirius wants me to stop writing now. I'll see you soon!_

_Sincerely_

_James_

If Lily had a stagnant love life, it was certainly her own fault. But the letters made her smile and sometimes blush to herself. Reading them, she sometimes laughed at James's dissembled arrogance and sometimes felt herself floating away like a piece of white dandelion on the wind in his sincerity and his flattery.

"Maybe he loves me," she told herself once. But that thought was strange and frightening, and she did not voice it again. If James Potter loved her, it was because he did not truly know her.

One day when she came home from Diagon Alley there was a foreclosure sign posted in the front yard of the house. Petunia was horrified, crying and throwing a tantrum in the house, until she calmed down enough to softly sob, "When Vernon sees… I can't imagine…it's humiliating, he'll break our engagement… I can't let him see…Lily, we have to take it down."

There was a court order not to remove the sign, but Lily did it anyway. The auction would take place the day after she went back to Hogwarts.

Her father just sat on the couch with his glass of wine, talking to the portrait. "I couldn't keep up, Aine…I thought I paid, but I forgot, maybe… you're right, I'll have to just ask the bank for an extension…maybe sell my old bottle-cap collection…"

Lily packed all of the things in her room into cardboard boxes just in case, but in the end Petunia ended up goading Mr. Evans into securing another loan and started organizing payments herself. And, because something had to be paid off to appease the bank, Lily gave them her last paycheck. The golden dress robe would have to wait… until next summer, perhaps.

_James, _she wrote on a piece of spare parchment.

_I wish you were with me. I need you to love me._

_Yours truly,_

_Lily_

That was all. She never sent it.

* * *

There was certainly more going on in the world that summer than afternoon conversations over ice cream and evening monologues over red wine. Lord Voldemort was at large. Some mornings Lily forgot it, with James's letters and breakfast in the muggle world, but then she would get to Diagon Alley, where people rushed to and from buildings and children never wandered into the ice cream parlor without a parent. And she would also see the front page of the Daily Prophet, always coverage of a Death Eater attack, or a giant sighting, or an ambush of Dementors.

Sometimes, there would be a disaster on the nighttime muggle news, like a fallen bridge or an enormous windstorm, that Lily knew were effects of the wizarding war. These occurrences would make her remember the collapsed shopping center last Christmas Eve, and then she would willingly cease thinking and instead open one of James's letters.

* * *

"Apple cinnamon?"

"No."

"Bowtruckle-dragon-scale-crunch?"

"You think I'm rather untamed, don't you, James?"

"It was just a guess."

"It's not even a flavor. You made it up."

It was the last evening of the summer. Lily's shift was about to end, and James was sitting at the counter again, drumming his fingers and taking his last few, futile stabs at her favorite ice cream flavor. He ran a hand through his hair and thought for a moment.

"You know what," he said suddenly, regarding Lily with a sly gleam in his eye and a slow grin, "I think I'll have a scoop of _maple walnut_."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "Just a scoop?" she asked. "You usually display a more piggish appetite."

"I'm only trying it. I figure it must be good," he paused dramatically, "since it's your _favorite flavor_, Lily." he said.

Lily didn't argue it. But she couldn't deny herself a coy smile.

"Would you like to have some with me?" he asked.

"Well Mr. Potter," she said, "I think I might manage that. My shift just ended."

She prepared two cups of maple walnut ice cream, and then sat down at the counter next to James. "How did you figure it out?" she asked curiously.

"Inoticed it in the counter, and there really was nothing else left to guess," James said. "Maple walnut though? It sounds like something old people eat. I bet Dumbledore likes it, he's sufficiently ancient."

"No, actually he likes lemon. He came in last month for a cone," Lily said.

"Really?" It was apparent that James couldn't envision Dumbledore eating an ice cream cone. He shrugged and ate a spoonful of his maple walnut sundae. "Hm…this isn't bad," he commented, surprised.

"Of course it isn't. Florean makes it with one hundred percent real maple syrup," Lily said.

Mr. Florean Fortescue started closing the tubs of ice cream and cleaning up behind the counter. Outside, Diagon Alley was starting to become quiet as the night set in.

"So Lily," James said in a business-like fashion, "I suppose we'll have to postpone that date until the first Hogsmeade weekend."

Lily sighed. "I suppose so," she said. But she wasn't certain that the idea was entirely unfavorable now.

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, chapter two is significantly shorter than chapter one, but this is the natural breaking point before the trip to Hogwarts. I have a feeling chapters will be starting to lengthen anyway. As always, I'd appreciate reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Lily's room was only dimly lit. The power had been shut off, and she had transfigured a few candles to float around the room lit up, almost like in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Her trunk was on the bed, packed. Now she was only saying good-bye to the place.

This had always been her bedroom. The wooden floorboards were uneven and had bits of dust and random minuscule things wedged in the cracks; they creaked when stepped upon. The walls were bare now, as Lily had already put her few pictures into her suitcase. They sloped in towards the center of the ceiling in the shape of the roof. It was not much of a room, but she had always been contented here.

In the corner was the old rocking chair. The bedroom had once been a nursery, with the crib where Lily's bed now stood, and then at one point it had housed both Lily and Petunia, until they had grown and Petunia had moved out. The rocking chair, the last vestige of the children's room, had stayed, as there was no other place to keep it in the house.

Lily sat in it, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Here her mother had sat, her mammai, and rocked her to sleep, every night until she was five probably, and then some nights afterwards as well. Always rocking, to and fro, steady and rhythmic, and ever singing…

"Siuil, siuil, siuil a run…

Siuil go sochair agus so go chuin…"

Her voice was soft and low, slowly singing the old Irish song as Lily fell asleep. Her hands caressed, her thumb always rubbing circles on Lily's shoulder, smooth, dependable clockwise circles. She smelled of lavender from the garden in the backyard. The amber pendant on her chest shone in the moonlight that came in through the window.

Lily touched the amber pendant on her own chest and rocked herself, the chair creaking forward and backward like a requiem. She sang quietly to herself, "is go dte tu mo mhuinin slan…"

* * *

Noon rose upon September 1st with clear skies. Mr. Evans drove Lily to King's Cross. The ride was long and quiet, though Lily talked about the upcoming year, her privileges as Head Girl, as the importance of NEWT testing. It was as if she were talking to herself; Mr. Evans occasionally nodded, or grunted his thoughtless assent, but it was as if he were preoccupied. Lily exasperatedly supposed that he would prattle on to Mrs. Evans all the way home. 

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was less crowded this year, drawing less attention from the surrounding muggles than it had before. Wizarding parents were dropping their children off quickly at the train, and not taking the time to see them off. The less time spent out and about, the less danger, responsible wizards seemed to think.

"Good afternoon, Lily," James greeted her as she approached the scarlet steam train. "What a fine-looking badge you're wearing."

"Hello James," Lily replied, smiling, "Yours doesn't look half-bad either. Hello Remus, Sirius, Peter."

The four boys were standing together, not at all an uncommon sight. James's Head Boy badge was displayed prominently upon his chest, and he was grinning perhaps more obviously than he intended to. Sirius was looking away, one hand loosely inserted into his pocket, sporting a pair of sunglasses which he lifted when a girl walked pass. "Whew, would you look at that, Remus, Emily Abbot got sexy over the summer…" he said in a low tone.

"How was your summer, Lily?" Remus asked, ignoring his somewhat tactless companion. Remus Lupin looked more scholarly than fashionable—he might have been a starving poet. His clothes were shabby and too large for his lanky frame. His hair was lank and light colored and his face a bit drained, but he was prone to looking this way from time to time. His facial features, however, were sharp, connoting an evident alertness, and he tended to rest his hand on his chin when pondering.

"It was very good, and yours?" Lily said.

"Likewise."

Peter Pettigrew was the other boy, taciturn, looking down at his feet, which in boredom or uncertainty, or perhaps both, he shuffled about from time to time. He was less slim and less intelligent than the others, and Lily often pitied him.

"We should get onto the train, it's going to leave soon," Lily told them.

Lily and James went to the first compartment. It was their first duty, and a rather bland one, to patrol the compartments. James remarked that he was more accustomed to being suspected of wrongdoing than he was to watching out for it. Lily said that they only had to patrol once. So, when the train began to move, they walked down the center aisle and back. They spotted a group of third years with dungbombs, which Lily threatened to take but James pretended not to notice, and they came upon a boy who had tried to impress his friends by performing a jinx upon himself that had backfired; Lily fixed him up in a matter of moments.

"All right, so nobody's exploded the train yet," James said. "Any other obligatory measures?"

"Not that I can think of," Lily replied.

"Shall we enjoy the ride, then?" James asked.

"That would be customary," Lily said.

They returned to the first compartment, took off their shoes, and sprawled themselves out across the seats. The train sped continually forward, northward towards Hogwarts, occasionally running over a bump in the track that jostled the compartment. James started giving Lily a long, in-depth recounting of a Quidditch match that he had played in over the summer. She lost interest in the middle of a wronski feint.

The ride was long and leisurely, even with Remus, Sirius, and Peter in the front compartment later on. A friend of Lily's named Kate joined them as well, and the group chatted merrily while eating Bertie Bott's beans, chocolate frogs, and pumpkin pastries that they had gotten from the candy cart.

* * *

Author's Note: The title of this story will soon be changing, because, frankly, the current title is very run-of-the-mill. So, if this is on your favorites, you'll be able to find it again easily, as it'll have the same URL. I'm thinking _Lily of the Wind_ will be the title (you might've noticed the reference to this is James's letters in chapter two). Well, I know this chapter was short, but read and review anyway if you'd like. 


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